The Stripper Tales part 3 - Sweet Cherry Pie

**Part 3**

(You will find Part 1 & 2 of The Stripper Tales here, a collection of memoirs from a job I had as a front desk clerk in a very seedy hotel...)

(please listen while reading for full effect)

[music] Sheeeeee's my cherry pie,
Cool drink of water, such a sweet surprise!
Tastes so good, make a grown man cry,
Saweet cherrrraaaaay paaa-eye!

My eyes adjusted to the dim of the club and standing at the dancers entranceway I took in the room. The typical 5pm crowd was peppered throughout the club, maybe 10 of them in total – all chairs facing the same direction, all eyes fixed lazily on the star attraction. Warrants “Cherry Pie” screamed from the sound system and I painfully accepted that the song would be stuck in my head for the next 2 days.

[music] Wellllllllll swinging on the front porch!
Swinging on the lawn!
Swinging where we want
Cause there ain't nobody home!

High above her head Electra gripped the pole with her right hand. She walked two slow sultry steps, lifted her right leg up to hook itself around the pole. The other leg followed as she softly twirled her body to the ground. Now on her knees she locked eyes with a patron in gyno-row. Falling to her ass her hand let go and leaning back she brought her legs up parallel to the pole. He slipped a thick French fry into his greasy mouth, eyes fixed at the bottom of the V as she spread her legs into the splits.

[music] I scream, you scream,
We all scream for her!
Don't even try
Cause you can't ignore herrrrr!

He said something to his buddy, who in turn said something to Electra. She slithered over to catch what he said, and her sexy grin was replaced with the kind of disgust only a dancers face shows. Up and off the ground, perching in sky-high red heels, she swung her long blonde hair in a circular motion to the music, stopping on the beat for a slow removal of her denim "cut-offs”. The two men in the front row no longer existed to her. Looking up and across the room she caught my eye and I became her new victim. Uncomfortable, I smiled shyly, broke the stare and slid into the DJ booth.

Terry’s lips were pulled into a tight pucker, his brow furrowed from squinting eyes. His face disappeared for a second behind a thick cloud of smoke, sinking back into his chair by the end of the exhale. Licking his yellowed fingers he extinguished the roach and playfully flicked it at my chest. I liked Terry yet he repulsed me. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how many dancers this guy had been with in his 12 years of DJing for strip clubs. Hundred’s? A blowjob was more of a pain in the ass now than a pleasure and “… these bitches think I owe them something after I let them suck my cock!” as he so eloquently put it.

Years of club life had taken a toll on his fashion sense if he’d had any to begin with. Up top he wore his signature black v-neck t-shirt and black leather bomber jacket. On the bottom - as usual, he sported a pair of MC Hammer pants with the gaudy print; in the black light they looked especially loud and obnoxious. The daily dousing of Calvin Klein’s Eternity had permeated the walls of the booth to the point where he no longer needed to apply it. An inch of poker straight hair at the scalp morphed into the foot long cascade of a spiral perm – that of which he thoroughly denied ever getting.

“What’s up little lady? How’s my favorite girl?” He said this to all the girls, yet it sounded so different when he said it to me. There was a mild hint of respect, something he had lost for any and all of the dancers he dealt with daily. He tolerated some of them and downright loathed others. It didn’t matter if you were new to the business or a pro on the pole – at the end of the day you were just another vagina to him. The female mystique was lost years ago…

His hand went to the CD player, and holding the side he wiggled it back and forth.

[music] She-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e's-ss-ss-ss my cherry pi-i-i-i-i-ii-i-i-i-e
Put a smile on your face
Ten miles wide!
Looks so go-o-o-o-o—o-o-o-ood Looks so go-o-o-o-o—o-o-o-ood Looks so go-o-o-o-o—o-o-o-ood Lo-o-o-o-o------
Bring a tea-ea-ea-ea-ea-ea-ea-r to your eye
Saweet cherrrraaaaay paaa-eye!
Yeah Saweet cherrrraaaaay paaa-eye!
Yeah!

Terry had a pretty good racket going on up in that booth. If a girl didn’t give him a cut of her tips she had a rapidly skipping CD the next time she was up on stage. Electra had failed to do so and was now paying the consequences.

“Delilah needs you to play track 2 first when she comes down, OK?” I handed him her CD.

“What does she think this is? Request hour? Tell her she can lick-my-ball-sack.” He rolled his eyes and took the CD. The last skipping chorus for “Cherry Pie” now finished, he stood up, peering out at the stage. Electra glared evilly at him. Cupping the microphone he boomed into it, “Letttttttt’s give it up for Eeee-lectraaaaa!!!! Don’t move gentlemen, in 5 minutes the lovely Danni Delish will be gracing the stage. If she can’t get your rocks off, noooobody caaaannnnn…”

On her way down from the stage Electra caught the last crude comment she was going to take from the duo in the front row. Turning on her heel she spun around and flew off the handle in a rage.

“NO!! - FUCK YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Still in a state of undress she grabbed the edge of his plate and launched the remaining French fries into the air. The empty dish landed in his lap and standing up it fell loudly to the floor – a streak of ketchup near his crotch. The bouncer was behind him as he lifted his hand to grab at her hair, and kicking and screaming obscenities he was dragged out to the street. Naked and annoyed Electra stormed up to the DJ booth ready to give Terry the rest of the fight. Hoping off my stool I was out of the booth and back to my front desk station within the minute. Replaying the scene in my mind it bothered me that the situation didn’t bother me… a scary thought, as I knew I was becoming numb…